


The Cabin

by AfanofManyStuffs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Sex, Angst, F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, POV Second Person, Reader Insert, Rough Sex, Second person POV, Smut, incidental cum play, light prey play, your point of view, your pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfanofManyStuffs/pseuds/AfanofManyStuffs
Summary: Deep in the woods, there stands a wooden cabin. There are many things this cabin in filled with, but none so precious as the moments you share with him.





	1. Wings and Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my friend N for the prompt of 'fireplace' one evening, which inspired the first chapter and started this whole thing. Originally posted to Tumblr.

The fireplace crackled comfortingly before you, providing a constant beat for the flames flickering and reflecting against the glass of whisky on the end table. It was late, and the windows were dark beyond the gauzy curtains their glass hid behind. A sigh escaped your mouth as you snuggled further into the plush cushions, the heavy weight of sleep threatening to overtake you.

  
Time passed, either a second or hours- the only way you tracked time was the crackle of the embers. Eventually, a soft rustle was heard behind the couch that you lay sprawled on, rousing you from the almost-sleep you had been drifting into.

  
“Castiel?” you mumbled, shifting your head an inch to better listen.

  
Footsteps clicked on the hard wood behind you, steadily getting closer to the fireplace. You watched as a blurry hand reached for the glass, then diverted from its path to rest on your head. The weight was both familiar and comforting.

  
“What are you doing up so late, my love?”

  
You blinked sleepily, catching a glimpse of his visage through tangled strands of hair. “Waiting for you, love. I’ve missed you, and you said you would come tonight.”

  
His fingers made a home in your hair; catching them as his hand slid back and forth in a steady, repetitive motion. In this fashion, the hair was swept back from your face bit by bit.

  
“It’s not good for you to stay up this late,” he breathed into your ear. His breath fanned across it and warmed the tip pleasantly, making you tilt your head up to bump into his jaw. Taking the initiative, he started planting a line of slow, leisurely kisses down your face.

  
“I wanted to greet you. It has seemed a century since we last saw each other,” you whispered back, a hand stretching behind you to touch Castiel’s wind blown and ruffled locks.

  
“I know,” he mumbled against your skin, not offering any more platitudes or pretty words; instead just relishing in the feel of you surrounding him once again.

  
Silently, you longed for his embrace; feeling starved without his touch, of his body and grace against your being. You stroked his hair slowly for a time before saying anything again. When words came, they were smooth and low, like a fine brandy. “Let’s go lay down a while… I’ve missed seeing the sunrise with you by my side, my angel.”

  
He made a soft noise of agreement, bringing his other arm from behind the loveseat to wrap around you. In the moment between heartbeats, both figures were gone from the room.

  
Still, the fire continued to crackle merrily, illuminating the bearskin rug and red and gold love seat. It had a history to it, like most other things in the small cabin. Hours stretched on in its golden glow, marked only by the chiming of the grandfather clock as the logs burned slow and steady. And to the side, on the glass endtable, that half full glass still sat, twinkling in the firelight as two lovers reunited on that starry, moonless night.


	2. Life in the Morning

In the center of the leftmost wall in the living room, there stands a sturdy old grandfather clock. Its wood is dark, the metal tarnished, and one of the legs unsteady. Behind it, beyond the sight of the inhabitants of the cabin, was a small family of spiders that hunted by making a cobweb once a week and continuously knocking it down and remaking it. In this fashion, there was only ever one net of the sticky substance near the top, and the remains of many more scattered on the floor under it. (Unbeknownst to this family, there is a mouse that likes to collect them on his whiskers and carry them back to his hole, and usually collects a fair few more insects on them than they do from their one web. The mouse is unaware of the spiders, and doesn’t quite know what one is, despite having a rather large ball of cobwebs in the corner of its little mouse hole.)

 

At the moment, the mouse has just finished its collecting for the week, whiskers thick with dust and bugs caught in the remnants of last week’s web, when the clock made a few rather sudden bangs that startled it into running across the floor to the other side of the room, where its hole of a home is. (The spiders, quite used to it, made no move, with the exception of one, which waved one of its eight legs rather mockingly at the mouse running away from the hourly occurrence. It was chided, in spider-chatter, to get back to watching the web).

 

Through the open door in the next room, tangled in sheets and limbs, Castiel was vaguely aware of all of this, but took no note as he watched the steady rise and fall of your chest while you slept peacefully. There were so precious few moments he could get away from everything to spend with you. Sometimes there was only a few stolen hours he could manage before he had to go. Other times, he was able to slip away for days.

 

His thoughts were broken the moment you moved, head pressing closer to his chest as you sought more contact between your bodies. A tired moan passed your lips as you clung closer to him. With a smile, he ran his fingers through the silky strands of your hair; petting you into rousing from the half asleep state you had surfaced to. You shifted again, a louder moan passing your lips.

 

“Cas?” came the weary question, answered by the hum of his voice, just before bowing his head to kiss you. A muffled sound of surprise soon shifted into another moan, this time of pleasure as you opened your eyes.

 

Breaking away, he trailed his eyes down your body to the red and purple marks he had left there last night. Fingerprints were scattered across your torso and hips, intermixed by the redder hues and larger marks of hickies that started on your neck and strayed lower- much lower. He traced one of these marks, aligning his fingers with a set of bruises on your ass.

 

A low groan came from your mouth, pressed against his chest as the vibrations travelled through him.

 

“Would you like me to heal you?” he asked, knowing what the answer would be but asking anyway; finding pleasure in hearing it from your own lips.

 

“No,” you said vehemently, shifting your body to straddle his. His grip grew tighter as he felt how wet you were, even after several rounds last night. His morning erection was provoked into further advancement, only progressing at your next words. “I like wearing your marks, Castiel.” You looked up, meeting his blue eyes. “I like feeling them.” Biting your lip, you asked, “Give me more, please?”

 

With a growl, he flipped you over; leaning over you. “With pleasure,” he replied. “My love.”

 

His lips clashed with yours; eagerly sucking on your pliant pair as he tried to milk another moan from you. Legs wrapped around his waist; squeezing his sides pleasurably as you rubbed yourself against his erection, the moisture between your legs only growing as his hardness increased.

 

“Please,” you murmured past his lips, shoving your hips against his. “Please, Sir, fuck me!” you begged; desperate for his cock to be buried deep inside you.

 

He heard the thought and groaned; a deep, gravelly sound that only served to make you wetter.

 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said against your lips, moving his mouth down to suck at the spot on your neck that made you lose your mind. He licked and lapped and sucked at it until a steady litany of noise emanated from your throat; hips arching off the bed. Taking a hand off your waist, and the fresh bruises starting to form there, he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in; biting down on your neck as he did so to smother the groan that escaped his mouth.

 

Your tight, wet heat engulfed him as he stretched and filled you completely; like two puzzle pieces coming together and interlocking. He sank until he could sink no more, and waited two blessed second to hear as you cried out for him; legs tightening further around his waist as he touched the deepest places there was to touch. Before there was any time to adjust, or really do anything other than fail to absorb the overwhelming sensations enough to gain your bearings, he started moving, washing both of you away in a wave of ecstasy. Quickly, he found a rhythm, sliding in and out of you; somehow touching every erogenous spot in you with every movement, no doubt using his grace to achieve such a feat.

 

With every movement, your hands roamed at his skin; scratching their song of pleasure into his skin. With every new feeling you dug deeper, and deeper still, until his skin was slippery with not only sweat but blood. Collecting some of this onto your finger, you shakily brought it to your mouth, licking around the tip sensually, cheeks red.

 

At the taste, your head was tossed back in ecstasy; eyes closing but not covering the glow of grace it gained as you ingested his blood. That special feeling coursed through you, and you edged closer to the line.

 

“Cas,” you groaned, somewhere between a moan and a plea, meeting his hips with every thrust. He moved his head from the base of your neck to the top of a breast with a nod, lapping at the skin and nuzzling it until he was at the nipple. He gave it a little lick before biting down on it, hard.

 

This elicited an almost-scream as you arched for him in pained pleasure but didn’t come- he hadn’t given permission yet, after all.

 

“Castiel, _please_ ,” you begged again, wanting- no, _needing_ to come. A growl was your only answer, a bob of his head and a hand at your clit the permission you craved.

 

You were gone with a scream of his name.

 

The next room over, the grandfather clock banged against the wall, causing the unfortunate demise of the family of spiders- well, all but one, who was rather below where it should have been, yelling at the oblivious mouse. As God would have it, that spider, upon finding its brethren, decided to move in with the mouse unannounced. The mouse still was ignorant of the existence of spiders until much later, when the collection of spider web in its hole (which inexplicably grew, although he had stopped adding to it, scared to go back behind the clock) suddenly exploded with small spiders, giving it the shock of its life. Being rather old, this shock caused it to die, and thus the arachnids lived on, feeding on its corpse.

 

This was especially unfortunate as a field mouse had just found its way indoors, and would have likely found a lovely companion in the original inhabitant of the hole. Being as it was, however, the field mouse instead found several friends in the form of the new family of spiders, who had decided that they could all live off of one web if it was up high enough.

 

Incidentally, Castiel was never aware of the changes in the family of spiders, other than having the vague knowledge that the mouse was now aware of the spiders.

 

The most curious thing about this situation was that every few months, the situation repeated itself almost exactly. (No one ever figured out that the wobbly leg of the clock could be permanently fixed if only they moved it to a wall where it wouldn’t be continuously banged against, although this was perhaps a moot point, as you and Castiel had sex on every piece of furniture in the house that was available- including the gold and red loveseat that you loved lying in besides the fireplace).


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of disjointed- you can probably tell where my two writing sessions stopped and ended. I’m getting back into the swing of writing (yay!), however, I don’t have as much time for it now with two fics to edit. Good news for this series, though: I only have to write one more chapter. Chapter 5 is already complete. As an aside, I’ve also cross posted this fic to Tumblr if you would prefer to read it there.

Winter weather swirled around you; the wind catching snow and ice and revealing its spiral stream circling around you. Beyond the veil of frozen flakes and hail, evergreen trees, weighed down heavy with snow and ice, surrounded the clearing. Two feet of snow lay solid below you; above you, many miles up, clouds hovered thick and fuller than you could know.

Still, wind and snow swirled around you. If you closed your eyes and just listened, the steady stream would become soft noise that became whispered words; the voice of Winter herself, in all her wrath and beauty.

Shutting your eyes, you stood patiently and listened to her song; a creation meant for your ears only. Whispers, baritones and sopranos filled your mind with a sharp, smooth, gentle and crescendo-ing melody as it rose and fell; shrieking and moaning like a lover, enraged but still full of love as she reminisced on the frozen flames of past loves.

Paying no mind to the elements, you took in the elaborate and striking sound for an indeterminate amount of time. It was so freeing to lose yourself in nature like this, just simply existing within its sphere of influence. No troubles plagued your mind, no speculations or worrying infiltrated your space. You just _were_ ; another primordial force in relation to another.

Sometime – you didn’t know when; time had no meaning, or perhaps didn’t even exist here – you became aware of another sound, or possibly even sensation, for senses tended to blend, here in this ethereal place. It sounded soft; like fabric rustling against itself, or the brush of fingertips across the supple plane of a cheek.

Somewhere, something urged you to open your eyes, and when you did, the song faded back into the white noise of wind. In exchange for the auditory loss, there was a novel view; another detail in this crystalline world that threatened to become the focus of it all. A man, shrouded in a coat, stood before you, and the whirling snow seemed to clear just enough to get a glimpse of his features. In this illuminated world, slowly turning red by nature of the sun’s shining rays, something like a mirage appeared on either side of him, taking on the form and shape of wings. The outline glowed red with the light, and you realized then what the man really was, for he was not a man, but an angel.

“Love…” You tilted your head in confusion; you had not seen the angel’s lips move, and it had been too clear for the wind. Again, the word came, infused with warm tones that were something you did not recognize, even though there was a maddening familiarity there that you could not place. It was as if you had heard it a thousand times before, and felt it a million times before that. It echoed around when it was called again, somehow making the world sway and blur, even though the snow still blew cold with the wind, the angel illuminated by the setting sun, moving closer with slow but sure steps.

The previous calm now broken, confusion and slight panic set in as you sensed that this was not the way it was supposed to go- the angel, you were supposed to greet the angel, the way you had done before- had you? Had you done it-

 

You awoke with a gasp, eyes flying open to see the amused face of Castiel a few inches above your face, which caused you to start backwards out of surprise, crashing into the headboard with a dull thump. Wincing in pain, you took a deep breath, bringing a hand up to rub your sore head. His expression now concerned at this sudden chain of events, Cas backed up, coming to sit beside you and slowly brought a hand to your head, sending healing Grace through the freshly bruised flesh.

“My apologies, love. I only sought to wake you.” Your emotions still not settled, you reviewed the situation and found yourself unable to contain a wave of giggles that soon became full blown laughter. Sitting up abruptly and tossing yourself at Castiel’s confused and concerned frame, you laughed into his chest, close to tears.

“…Y/N? Are you okay?” he asked once you had calmed down to the occasional chortle.

“Sorry, Cas… I was dreaming about how we first met. Remember? You woke me just before the sun flashed green… I woke so panicked for some reason, and then….” You giggled some more, pulling back to plant a chaste kiss on his lips quickly. “And then you scared me like that… I suppose it wasn’t really funny, I was just unsettled.”

A mischievous smile slowly spread on his face as he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing, reminding you of a bird. What didn’t remind you of a bird was how he pounced on you, tickling you until you were screaming in laughter, paying enough attention to the erogenous zones on your belly and navel and making it tingle with his Grace so much that you laughed until you were cramping. Seeking revenge, you fought back until you could shift enough to be able to kiss him with enthusiasm. Your tickle fight then became decidedly more passionate in nature; giggles becoming moans and laughter becoming exclamations of pleasure.

He was rough in the best way with first his fingers, then mouth, and cock; giving pleasure through pain in the way that blazed trails through your body; making you come over and over again until your vision was blurred and you were both exhausted in the way that only the other could accomplish. Satiated and happy, you cuddled into each others warmth as snow started to fall outside. The sight through the window made you smile- it was the first snow of the season. Snow would forever remind you of Castiel, and the green flash that marked your meeting on that fateful, snowy day.


	4. Love Me Rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted to Tumblr at afanofmanystuffs.tumblr.com  
> Song inspiration: Church – Fall Out Boy
> 
> Welp, I was listening to the new FOB album, desperately wondering what to write and… this happened. It took an hour for the rough draft and… longer for the second one (got drunk, talked too much online, and freaked out, y’know, the usual). Thank God for Panic! At the Disco. I would have never finished this without their music.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy smut intersped with fluff. I initially thought to make this longer but blanched at the word count for a “drabble” series. So. A hardcore bondage PWP is on my to-do list now, with this chapter as the unofficial prologue.
> 
> Special thanks to my strawberry onion @sparklingcas, who’s blog I raided yesterday for something and came across a chapter that I had contributed to involving the shower and a frankly ridiculous amount of orgasms, and @castiels-crowleyroleplay for kick starting my muse. I’ve missed writing so much. 4 months is too long, but editing called… Additionally, a shout out to Caniformes, a wonderful A/B/O AU that I’ve read with my friend @greenappleeyes, who’s certain discussions and drunken ramblings about that fic had a direct influence on this.

The sound of water hitting tile in big, fat drops filled your ears, the sense always more sharp with your eyes closed. It allowed you to hear Castiel better, too – and you wanted to hear every little sound that came out of him. Worshiping your angel on your knees in the shower was one of your favorite activities. Worshiping him in general, really. But in this way especially.

Digging your knees in further to the Grace-cushioned tile, you could tell he was close by the pitch of his deep, throaty groans and the little, uncontrollable thrusts he made into your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks out and moaning as you deep-throated him, you went down for the last time, making him come with a cry down your throat. You swallowed all he gave as you looked up to behold his visage in the throes of ecstasy, the spray of the shower and bathroom light making a halo around his face- _how befitting_ , you thought. Once you were sure he was down from the high, you carefully pulled off from him, licking your lips to ensure that you got every last drop.

Cas let out a soft groan at the pornographic picture you made, then bent and lifted you up with his strong arms to slot his mouth over yours. He pinned you against the wall with his body, his fingers seeking that place between your legs. Finding it, he massaged it expertly with his fingertips, prompting you to hook your legs around his waist as he shoved you up to sit on the narrow, slippery ledge for better access. Becoming rapidly impatient, he growled and reached up, yanking the shower head from its place above your heads. He deftly adjusted the flow settings and angled it unwaveringly just right on your clit until you completely and totally came undone with a cry while he held your hips in place, letting the hot water ride you through the waves of pleasure.

When you could remember what your name was, you thanked him with a kiss as you unwrapped your legs from his waist. Cas shut off the water before gathering you up in his arms, chest to chest, and lifted you from the short edge of the luxurious walk in shower that was quite out of place, considering the rustic setting (it was Dean’s idea, which you took to. Showers needed space for these things to happen, after all). He then gently set you on your feet and took a towel from the two neatly folded ones on the counter. After shaking it open, he wrapped it around your head and shoulders, rubbing gently, tenderly; love clear in his features. You giggled from sheer happiness, catching his hands with yours and holding them, letting the towel slip to the floor as you stepped forward to kiss him again. Bare skin pressed against bare skin; sated souls rejoicing together through a bodily connection as you slid against one another effortlessly, completely in harmony.

Parting easily with the confidence and desperation only lovers could have, he held your face in his hands and brushed his fingers down your cheeks as you reached behind him for the other towel, letting it fall open before you guided it over his head to dry his hair. You couldn’t stop staring at one another, both lost in the other for an indeterminate amount of time, bodies frozen until the emotions swelled too much, and you met in a kiss once again.

This kiss was like making love; slow and sweet and sensual against one another – as caring as it was passionate. Limbs entwined, as did tongues; a hit for the craving of closeness as much as a show of love.

When you parted, panting for breath as if orgasm had been chased after and achieved, your foreheads touched while the rest of your forms never parted, just as close, if not closer, than during the intimacy of sex. Still staring into each other’s eyes, both lost in the bottomless depths of their lover’s eyes, Castiel broached, “I was wondering… Would you like me to be rather rougher tonight?”

Cas couldn’t see it, but he could feel it as a smirk spread across your face, your body becoming flushed with the scenarios and possibilities of sensation that he could bring to you dancing across your mind.

“Please,” you breathed, pressing still closer to him. Neither of you knew who started it, but suddenly, your bodies were on fire and aroused, each feeding off one another in an infinite loop. Cas’ erection grew and rose, jutting into your pelvis; practically begging you to do something with it.

You kissed your angel once more before sliding down his slick body, flicking and pinching his nipples with your fingers and licking a trail through the drops of water on the way down until you settled on your knees, eyeing your prey.

You licked your lips first, giving him a show before you took the head into your mouth and sucked gently. His body tensed at the sudden onslaught of pleasure before he forced himself to relax and accept it. Taking a breath, you ran your tongue down the underside, causing him to release a groan that turned into a cry of pleasure as you took him all the way down your throat.

Your eyes watered and pussy throbbed; the noises emanating from him sounding so, _so_ wrecked. Slowly, you came up off his cock with a deliciously wet sound for another breath of air before doing it again, fondling his balls with your fingers. He let out another, deeper groan, tilting his head up and closing his eyes in an expression that made you want to put his dick in a different opening of yours just so you could see it better. But you had a task to do. Deliberately, you worked up a rhythm; a suck at the head, slide down to the middle, come up, slide all the way down, and back up. Repeat. With this method, he made a continuous litany of noise, fingers twisting and tearing the towel as you sucked on his cock, played with his balls, and hollowed out your cheeks explicitly for his pleasure. Tears were threatening to fall when you felt it; heard it. The twitch of his entire body as you moaned around it; the small grunts that meant he was about to come undone. Your pussy was soaked with your own molten liquid now from the noise alone.

Without warning, you pulled off. Before he could comprehend why there was a lack of the last bit of stimulation he needed to come, you were out of the bathroom, running. You had just passed the bedroom door when you heard Castiel on his way behind you, cock undoubtedly hard, red, pulsing and slick, and likely bouncing between his legs as he ran. You almost groaned at the mere thought. Clipping a corner as you made a sharp turn, anticipation built and added to your arousal. You had barely made it to the loveseat in front of the fireplace when you felt his strong arms wrap around you, and you cried out in defeat. He grunted and turned your body forcibly; making you bend over on the plush seat, your hips, ass, and pussy in presentation to him while your face dug into the top, hands clutching it on either side for balance, breasts hanging down in midair.

He swiped a finger through your arousal once, let out a deep, baritone growl at how utterly slick you were, and lined himself up and pushed in before you could catch your breath. You cried out again as he gave you no time to adjust, immediately initiating a fast and merciless pace in and out of you, hitting what seemed like every part of your sensitive walls. His growls and groans clashed with your shrieks and moans as he chased after his own pleasure, spiking yours on the way. The fingers of one of his hands dug into your hip, surely leaving more bruises, the other on your waist keeping you down, though unnecessary – you were practically sobbing at the pleasure he sparked in you, so completely and utterly beyond your control.

Just as he brought you out onto the edge he came with a shout of your name, filling you with his hot seed. You cried out again at the sensation, thrusting back onto his softening cock. Just a _little bit more_ and you would be there.

You were still in the heat of the race when his hands released their harsh grip from where they were and instead wrapped around your thighs from the inside, close the the pinnacle, pressing gently against your skin as he pulled out. You whimpered, no longer feeling complete. That whimper turned into a light moan as he trailed his fingers through your wetness, flicking your clit. Suddenly, two more fingers entered you and curled up, hitting your G-spot dead on. You let out a broken whimper as he brought you up to stand against his chest, the fingers of both hands working furiously at your clit and channel while his mouth left fresh hickies on your neck on top of the older ones. Stuttering, wordless gasps, pleas, and encouragement left your lips as he brought you closer and closer to orgasm with sheer skill. Just as you felt yourself starting to fall, he pulled away, offering his fingers to your mouth instead. Robotically, you accepted them, sucking them clean of both of your releases in a hormonal daze, slowly realizing what this was- payback for what you had done.

He turned you around after his fingers were clean, pressing you into his chest in a hug as you whimpered, still desperately turned on but unfulfilled. “Shh, shh, my love. You’ll get what you were denied with interest later.”

“I had better,” you said in resignation, finally embracing him. Even if he had done a cruel thing, just being near him was still pleasurable on a deeper level, like a balm to your soul.

You looked forward to tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Chapter 5 coming soon!


End file.
